Hide & Seek

Even though Izumo's establishment was already closed for the evening, he still raised his head to the sound of the front door opening. When Mikoto sauntered in as lazily as ever, Izumo smiled lightly and shook his head. "You're like a cat," he announced playfully. "Just coming and going as you please with no word to anyone else."

Mikoto's expression was stony as he slowly raised his eyes towards his second, watching the man greet him from behind a steady cloud of smoke. "Didn't know I needed permission to run for cigarettes," he droned.

Tatara's musical laughter cut over the conversation as he wiped down some tables. "That's sure something a king would say, isn't it Kusanagi-san?"

"King, spoiled cat, whichever." Izumo sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "But as our king, you should know better. You know that things are starting to move quickly since the blues figured out about Kagutsu, so you should be more careful about wandering around on a whim." He picked up a glass and began to polish the reflective surface, finding a fraction of peace in the familiarity of the trio occupying the quiet bar. It had been a long time since it was just the three of them sharing each other's company. After all that had happened, leaving them discouraged in the past couple of weeks, Izumo felt that it was just what he needed to lift his spirits.

On the other hand, when Mikoto seated himself at the bar next to where Tatara was finishing with his chores, he could swear the aura in the room had shifted. "Uh oh," Tatara cooed gently. "What happened? You seem like you're in a bad mood."

Mikoto didn't answer.

Watching his king carry on like he didn't hear the question wasn't uncommon, but Tatara's stomach flopped when he watched Mikoto's fist clench against the rosewood bar top. At first, his tone was playful, but it soon filled with dread. "King… What's wrong?"

Hearing the urgency in Tatara's voice, Izumo glanced the pair curiously and searched Mikoto's downtrodden expression. "What are you two goin' on about over there?"

Suddenly, Anna appeared in the entryway of the bar after traversing the staircase with sleep in her eyes. Although her intrusion was quiet, Izumo and Tatara immediately diverted their attention towards her instable meandering. "Anna?" Izumo addressed the girl worrisomely, unsure of what had summoned her from her bed. She even seemed worried or possibly distressed. "Is everything alright?"

"Miko…to…" When the child finally made her way to her king, she flopped her head into his lap. The way she clutched him with fading strength made Mikoto's entire body stiffen as he continued to meditate on the events to transpire that evening.

Tatara rose to his feet when he noticed Izumo pause in polishing his glassware, a kind smile on his face. "Anna-chan, what's the matter? Did you have a nightmare?" Even as he tried to remain positive, he was still partially alarmed when Anna fought so intently on remaining attached to her king. At that point, Tatara wasn't sure that he should be prying her tiny hands away. Unfortunately, he noticed that she was quite breathless, and on top of that, sweating as if she'd indeed experienced something terrifying. "Here, let's get you something to drink and-"

"No!" The girl's squeal was shriller than usual but remained quiet as she continued to clutch an unmoved Mikoto. "Mikoto, don't go…"

When Tatara straightened, the humour faded from his face. "Anna-chan… He just got back…"

"It must have been a pretty scary dream," Izumo murmured. He sighed softly and resumed his task. "Which is saying something considering the reality we're facing here. I can only imagine what she might've seen."

Mikoto still hadn't returned the child's attention as he felt her frightened tears begin to weep into his lap. It was taking all he had to stay in control long enough to say goodbye. "Anna…" He winced as if he'd suffered pain with the delicate shudder she exhibited to the sound of his calm voice.

"You two are starting to freak me out," Izumo admitted bluntly. He changed out the glass that he was working with, narrowing his curious contemplation on the interactions between the pair. "Just what exactly has you so uptight, anyway?"

Calm ochre eyes slid across the bar, refusing to make contact with anyone else as Mikoto tried to hold onto the smallest ray of hope, his friends, and a family built on their shared circumstance. He was watching it all slip through his fingers as his vision narrowed, and the darkness invaded from all sides. He could feel the heat welling within him unbearably, and no matter how stifling his skin was, Anna didn't shy away. He appreciated that devotion by silently raising tense fingers to comb them through her beautiful silver roots. "I'm sorry," he nearly whispered towards the trembling child.

Then, he finally raised his tired appreciation towards his friends, the ones who had been with him since the beginning. Even after all they'd suffered by his hand, they remained, and he wanted to tell them that the depth of that loyalty was all that kept him going some days. They seemed skeptical and nervous, but he supposed that they probably should be. They'd come close to finding a way, maybe even close to a cure, but everything slipped from his fingers the moment that Genji first snuck to the surface. He wouldn't have long before he was unable to choke him back down, and he knew that, but it didn't make goodbye any less painful. "I'm out of time."

Izumo's brow knitted to consider Mikoto's bleak warning, and then suddenly, the door burst open again, far more urgently than previously. Mikoto had to do no more than observe as the glassware slipped from Izumo's fingertips, the shattering of the fragile flute an accurate comparison for the delicate situation at hand. When he watched the casual aura of his friend morph into pure terror, he knew that Saruhiko had brought Seri with him, as expected.

"S-Seri!"

Tatara quickly stepped out of the way when Izumo vaulted over the bar, storming the sight of a bleak Saruhiko carrying the woman's limp body between his arms. "Awashima-kun," Tatara murmured nervously. "What happened to her?"

The moment Izumo took the woman's wounds into account, his teeth ground, his cuspids protracting swifter than they'd ever done before. The moment that Saruhiko had released the woman to where she could rest against one of the window-side couches, Izumo went on the attack. "Fushimi, you son-of-a-bitch!"

The moment Saruhiko saw his typically composed ex-clanmate ball his fist at his side, his gaze sharpened, and he flashed his canines in response. His fingers clawed at the latch of his sword, just itching for an excuse to vent his frustrations in battle. "I would expect that kind of an accusation from any of the others, but not you," Saruhiko snarled. "What happened to look before you leap?"

"Are you saying that somebody else did this to her?" Izumo snapped back ardently. "You little moron, I know that she was feeding you on the side!"

"You're late." Finally, Mikoto climbed from his seat, causing Anna to whimper as she was gently encouraged to the side. "I thought we pretty much determined that time was kinda important, but you sure didn't rush."

Saruhiko froze, his terror gathering in his throat as he watched Mikoto's lethargic gaze comb the sight between him and Izumo. "Y-you… what are you doing here?" he demanded. He backed himself into a corner to make sure neither of them got the drop on his undefended rear, but that didn't bring him any more comfort. "Are you… Suoh Mikoto?"

Hm. A slight grin curled the Red King's lips as he met the boy's alarm directly. "Yeah, and I live here, in case you forgot after all these years as a blue."

"Mikoto…" Izumo was seething his breaths through tight teeth as he watched Mikoto approach Seri through wild eyes. His saunter was casual, and he knew exactly where the woman had suffered, where to lay his hand despite Saruhiko hiding the mark during their travels. The moment his king's flames touched Seri's skin, the illusion shattered.

Seconds after Mikoto relieved in the realization that Seri inherited the last bit of flame he had to give, his tension lessened, and a small smile brightened his expression. It was his last gift of apology to a dear friend. He might not have been strong enough to lock the demon out any longer, but at least Seri and Izumo could share a similar fate. He thought it was a kindness.

The power behind Izumo's relentless strike hammered into Mikoto's jaw hard enough to knock him backwards, and the pain was unwelcome but anticipated. Even from a distance, Mikoto could feel the rage and agony burning within his companion.

"Take it back!" Izumo raged. "She wasn't supposed to have anything to do with this!"

"Kusanagi-san!" Tatara pleaded urgently. "Please calm down! I'm sure it was an accident!"

"Why!?" Izumo roared through his devastation. "Of all people, why her!? Why now?!" The thing he hated even more than the violent tears he felt stinging his eyes was the look of apology on Mikoto's face. He wasn't typically so gentle, so humble in appearance.

"Mikoto!" Before Anna could charge their confrontation, Tatara seized the weeping child and clutched her tightly to his chest.

"Anna-chan, not now!" he begged. "Please just stay back while King and Kusanagi-san sort this out!"

The child's tears only intensified. "Mikoto, don't go!"

Suddenly, Izumo's rage seemed to subside. He watched Saruhiko defend Seri as her breathing began to stabilize. The boy's hand never left the handle of his sabre. Then, he considered that Mikoto had anticipated Saruhiko, had known where Seri had found herself bitten. At the very least, he'd found a way to lower his quivering voice to sound less confrontational. "Mikoto… where did you go tonight?"

Mikoto shrugged lazily and lowered his eyes towards the floor. "I guess Kagutsu finally figured today was the day he wanted to declare war on the blues." He closed his eyes, choking back the presence he felt coursing through him in an attempt to regain control. He refused to let the demon take him over when he was so close to his friends, to Anna. "I was just along for the ride."

"What… what does that even mean?" Izumo demanded urgently. His chest ached as he watched Mikoto smile weakly before stuffing his hands in his pockets. Without another word, he stepped past the commotion to leave the bar. "Mikoto?" The concern bled from his voice as he filled it with rage. "Are you just gonna walk away from the mess you started?!"

And he did. Too many lifetimes ago, Mikoto had started something tragic. He felt that weight in his chest the most when he paused in the doorway to the sound of Tatara calling out to him in a soft voice.

"King…?"

Despite not having the strength of presence left to say it, Mikoto was glad too. He was happy to have shared the laughter that followed the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Maybe he was selfish, but giving the kindest soul that he'd ever met the chance to thrive was something that Mikoto could never regret. The world wasn't ready to lose that smile, that ray of hope. And he figured it never would be. In Mikoto's biased opinion, humanity needed more modest saviours like Tatara, people that could see the good inside someone no matter how deeply they buried it, people like Anna.

His voice was low as he choked down the flames wanting to spill destructively from his skin, but still, embers danced around his tight frame with their struggle to be free once again. "Look after Anna for me."

It was difficult for Tatara to keep his arms locked around the squirming child as Anna struggled to reach her king, but something warned him that if he let her go, she would be in danger. In his heart, Tatara felt the will of their king fighting to protect what was important to him until the very end. When he said he was out of time, he meant it.

Not long after the silent gathering watched Mikoto saunter away, Anna's struggling subsided to her tender whimper. A moment later, she was collapsing faintly in Tatara's arms. "A-Anna-chan! Are you alright?!"

"Take her upstairs," Izumo ordered curtly through carnivorous teeth. Moments after giving his command, he turned his heated expression towards Saruhiko, who still trembled at the ready to strike. "And you. We're gonna have a little chat about what the hell just happened."

"How should I know?" Saruhiko retaliated coldly. "The last time I saw him, he was possessed by the demon."

"Kagutsu?"

Tsk. Saruhiko released his hold on his sword with a bitter sneer. "He was right. Kagutsu essentially declared war with the Blue King tonight," Saruhiko admitted coldly. "Usually, the Captain would humour him. Suoh Mikoto is the only vampire with the ability to alter his appearance, but the Captain's sword sensed Kagutsu's presence." Saruhiko's tone scornfully flattened as he tipped his gaze back towards Seri's battered frame. "Frankly, if he knew it all along, I wish he would have acted on it, not that it would have prevented any of this anyways."

Izumo's lethal gaze flashed as he captured the youth by his collar and forced him to the tips of his toes. "Now you listen to me," he growled. "That's my pal you're talkin' about here. I don't care what asshole's got him acting like a damn animal. He's still my friend." And when Izumo said things like that, it was credible. That same man that he still called a friend was the very beast who'd torn him to pieces before turning him.

"Yes. The same friend who nearly killed the woman you love," Saruhiko mocked. "And after seeing how you treat him, it's no wonder-"

"W-where am I?" Seri looked around nervously, taking a moment to comprehend her surroundings. "Why am I… here?"

With Izumo's distraction, Saruhiko turned his gaze to where Seri began to stir. He knew that she didn't want him to bring her to HOMRA, but in the end, it couldn't have played anymore in their favour. "I had no choice," Saruhiko muttered flatly. "The others saw the mark. They'll know that you've turned."

Izumo's grip on Saruhiko's collar immediately slackened, and moments after Seri's weak voice interrupted them, he was releasing the boy entirely. He could see the devastation on her face as she comprehended her circumstance. Her entire reason to be seemed to fade from her grasp, and she stared at her hands like she watched it slipping through the gaps between fingers. "S-Seri…" Despite his anger, he was silently grateful to meet her eyes the moment she turned them to face him. He knelt by her side, and when she raised one set of fingers to her feverish brow, Izumo captured the roving appendage tightly between his hands. "It's all gonna be okay now. You're safe."

Before Saruhiko could bow out gracefully, Izumo cast him a warning glare over his shoulder. "We're not done here," he muffled under his breath. "You're not goin' anywhere until I get some damn answers."

Tsk.

"Kusanagi-san, I've put Anna-chan back to bed." Tatara's expression brightened hopefully to the sight of Seri waking, trying to sit up with Izumo's aid. "Ah, Awashima-kun! How are you feeling?"

"Profoundly unwell," she bleakly confessed. "I don't recall this place spinning so violently during my last visit."

"Eh, it does that sometimes," Tatara teased.

"Here, let's get you somewhere more comfortable," Izumo encouraged her kindly. "I'll help you to the back."

"Is now really the time for such talk?!" she demanded heatedly.

"Ah, I wasn't- never mind," he sighed bleakly in defeat. He supposed he'd had that coming for his previously ill-timed humour.

After he watched Izumo guide the faint woman to her feet and across the floor, Tatara's expression softened to the sight of Saruhiko's wandering gaze. After all the years they'd been apart, Tatara could still sense the longing. Even if it was only moderately, for just a moment, Saruhiko's eyes shone with eager expectation. "Are you looking for Yata-chan."

Tsk. Saruhiko impatiently threw his eyes over his shoulder. "It's just quiet here, that's all."

A falter in Tatara's smile allowed his sadness to creep through. "Recently, we told the others about the truth with King and Kagutsu. Some of them took it pretty hard." Tatara diverted his eyes, allowing Saruhiko to indulge his curiosity as he watched unexpected sincerity cause the usually bright man's demeanour to fade. "Yata-chan hasn't come back since. I think he's taking it pretty hard."

"It's about time he learned to take something seriously," Saruhiko derided uncomfortably. "I don't know what any of you expected. You don't just make deals with demons without consequences."

"No, you don't do you?" Tatara kindly agreed. "Has Fushimi-san accepted the consequences?"

Ending the conversation, Saruhiko turned away entirely and paced throughout the familiar territory that stained his heart no matter how badly he'd tried to erase it. If Izumo was going to force him to linger, he figured he might as well make himself comfortable, and that certainly wasn't by speaking with Tatara, of all people. "This conversation is over."

Saruhiko had come to terms with his actions. It was his fault, his deal with a red devil that had destroyed all the good in his life. There was no denying that. It was why he'd left, why he'd searched tirelessly for a remedy just like in the beginning. And ultimately, the debt would be repaid in full with the life the same demon granted him. At the very least, he felt safe among the others of his kind, if only temporarily. Mikoto was fighting to protect them, which is why he was able to regain control, and he felt like his previous king would do all in his power to maintain his distance starting from that moment. Maybe the silence was uncomfortable as he sat quietly at the bar, waiting for a miracle. Still, at the very least, the nearness to something close to Misaki's heart brought him one step closer to saying his final farewell.

"Thank you for bringing Awashima-kun to us," Tatara hollered gratefully.

Saruhiko's expression darkened as he muttered his grim retort. "I didn't do it for you..."

Watching the proud woman by his side stumble when she walked was heartbreaking, and every time that Seri clutched Izumo's hand tighter for support, he struggled to contain his wrath. It seemed to take forever to get her seated in the back away from prying eyes. For just a moment, he wanted to be relieved that she was alive. As angry as he was, and although his prejudice wanted to blame Saruhiko for the initial bite, Izumo had to admit that even if the boy were responsible, he was brave enough to bring her to the only place where she could obtain a fighting chance. There was nothing left to do but pray.

"Careful, Seri," he murmured. "I know it's hard. Here, let's just sit down for a bit."

"I have to go back," Seri whispered meekly. "The Captain- If the demon should strike-"

"He's got Fushimi and the others," Izumo calmly reasoned. "I won't keep him long." He seated himself by her side and took one of her hands between his. She held her second to her brow as another nauseating wave of faintness washed over her, but overall, she was handling it well. "Don't worry about your clan. They'll do what's best for them, I'm sure."

"I can't simply abandon them at such a crucial time," she persisted. "I must return immediately."

When Seri moved to stand, Izumo tightened his hold on her hand and dragged her back into the plush cushions of the futon. "You can't, Seri-chan." His tone filled with sadness, but there was also a stern warning reminding her that in her weakened state, he was superior in strength. Because of her situation, she was also delivered to them unarmed. He couldn't raise his consideration to hers when she turned a desperate pair of beautiful crystal eyes on his defiance. Instead, he stared at their connection, wondering how long it was going to take her to comprehend how fiercely his hands were shaking.

"You can't," he tenderly repeated. "Fushimi wasn't quick enough getting you out of there. Your men know that our king bit you, so if you go back now, you're going back as the enemy. You were able to keep Fushimi a secret for a long time, but this is different." Finally, he raised his eyes to hers and tried to smile, reassuring in the best way he knew how. Later, when he addressed Saruhiko for a second time, he would have the boy deliver the news that Seri hadn't survived. It would do the Blue Clan no good to cling to her rescue. "It looks like you're stuck with me now."

As severely as Seri's tears wounded him, he didn't look away, and he didn't say anything more as he cleared them from her cheeks. He knew that she was fighting her hardest to be reliable, but that was the fate of every vampire who called HOMRA home. At some point, their entire way of life was challenged, stripped from them by whatever means and leaving them to fumble towards an uncertain future. "I'm so sorry," Izumo whispered despondently. "I didn't want any of this for you. Especially not now." When she gave her first light sniffle as the only indication that she was crying at all, he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her damp face to his breast. He closed his eyes tight, his brow furrowed tightly. Of all times for Seri to find herself swept up amidst the chaos, now was not the best.

"I never noticed how warm you were," she murmured evenly. Before that, she had always found Izumo rather cold to the touch. "And your heart is beating so erratically."

"That's because you scared the hell outta me, Seri," he half-heartedly teased. "I wish we could take our time with this. I wish I could show you all those pretty things about my world that you never got to see before." His grip on her tightened defensively. "But it looks like we're at war now. Mikoto's left with a pretty vague warning all of a sudden after Fushimi says that he attacked your king."

"The Captain? Is he alright?" she demanded urgently.

"Yeah…" Izumo surrendered. "I'm sure he's just fine. Fushimi wouldn't've left his side if he wasn't."

A choked swallow caused Seri's throat to burn as she lightly patted his front, smoothing the damp wrinkles her sobbing had left against his shirt. "He's a good boy," she whispered meekly. "I know he acts cold, but he has a big heart."

A dull chuckle rattled in the centre of Izumo's chest to her theatrics. "Don't act like this is the end of the world," he gently reprimanded. "It's insulting to the rest of us."

"Us…" she muffled defeatedly. "What an incredibly inconvenient time for me to fall victim to my own arrogance. I have brought shame to-"

It was hard enough listening to Seri speak about her objectives when they were together, but now that they were crumbling around her, it made his heart begin to ache as he watched the proud woman admit defeat. It wasn't the kind of weakness he wanted to see in her, so he interrupted her defeated prattling with a gentle kiss.

Seri seemed to resist it in the beginning. Though, not long after, she was melting into his reassuring embrace, appreciating that whenever she was at her breakpoint, he was there to make light of her circumstance and remind her why she needed to keep fighting.

The kiss was sweet and tender as Izumo dusted away Seri's tousled side-swept bangs so he could move it to her brow. "You have to stay put, now," he cautioned her gently. "We have some figuring to do, so I need you to promise me you'll stay where I can protect you."

"To think that it's come to this," she muttered as if stricken by tragedy.

"Yeah, I'm excited too," he deviously sassed. Regardless, by the time he slid his thumb over Seri's lower lip, a smile was curving it. "Promise me, Seri." Despite his struggle to moderate his overwhelmed senses, he managed to regain some of his casual indifference to the dire situation at hand.

"I promise."

"There," he murmured fondly. "You've made lots of promises recently." A wry smirk brightened his expression as he climbed to his feet and cast his playful gaze towards her lingering posture. "I wonder how many you actually keep."

Uch! A look of sheer misery flooded her face, and he could tell that she was guilty by the delicate blushing of her ivory cheeks. "I'll have you know that I-"

"It doesn't matter," he reassured her softly. "We have bigger things to worry about." Suddenly, the humour faded from his flattening tone and expression in tandem. "For starters, we need to get you up to speed on how things are gonna change now that you're damned like the rest of us."

"You put it so charmingly," she chided grimly.

"And now my buddy's missing and rumoured to be dukin' it out with some centuries-old demon. I've got Fushimi on bar arrest until he gives me some solid answers, and to top it all off, Anna seems to be affected by whatever's happenin' with Mikoto." He returned his desperate gaze towards the woman with a pleading smile. "So, I really need you to take it easy for a bit."

"I'll do my best."

"That's not good enough, and you know it," he cautioned her sternly. "I'm serious now. Everything's a mess, and you might be the only one I can trust to keep it together when everything starts falling apart. I'm countin' on you here, Seri."

Seri lowered her eyes, her hands folding in her lap as she contemplated her circumstance. "I… understand," she whispered in surrender. "I will… do as you ask."

"That's my girl," he drawled proudly. When Seri cut her eyes towards him beneath her brow and glowered at his mockery, he laughed. Despite the authority in her expression, her eyes were still red and complexion rosy from a fleeting moment of dropping her guard. "Yeah, there's the look." He immediately lowered his eyes, his hand resting on the doorframe as he tried to keep his smile from fading around his faint plea. "Just give me some time to process everything that just happened, okay?"

"Certainly," Seri whispered through a mild grin of her own. "Take all the time you need. It seems I have plenty to spare now."

His chest ached for the passion that swelled beneath his breast when he turned and met her vague encouragement. She was so brave, and it was one of the things he appreciated most about the passionate beauty. But he never expected her to turn the tables on him so entirely. "Yeah… I guess we do, don't we?" It was harder than ever to tear himself away, but he needed her to be healthy, so she needed blood. Then, he needed to find Mikoto and bring him back to his senses before it was too late.

'How did this happen?' Despite the dark, Saburōta could see the lines of his lover's face resting peacefully against his chest. Her hair was soft against his chin, and he consciously tried not to disturb her with deep breaths. Instead, he kept them shallow and quiet, holding onto the peaceful moment for just a little longer in case she decided to hate him again come morning.

He watched her lashes flutter slightly as her eyes shifted underneath resting lids, and something about that piqued his curiosity. It made him wonder what she was seeing on the other side, who she was holding in her dreams. 'How can I feel bad about what I did when I ended up calling something like you mine?' Well… sort of. The truth was that they weren't entirely sure what they were. At that point, they'd seemed to come to terms. They only had a couple of spats over the past two days, but she always ended up pressed against him that night. Surprisingly, she'd been all too eager to forgive him once they were alone.

When she fussed in her sleep with a breathy moan, his grip on her locked to make sure she didn't do something ridiculous like try to roll away from him. Instead, he kept her face near his own, and her body wrapped up in his arms, where he knew she was safe.

Since she'd settled again, Saburōta tilted his head to dust their brows together, scanning her face with gentle eyes as she relaxed. She didn't seem like she was resting very comfortably, but he didn't care. She looked perfect just the way she was with her hair a mess, and sleepy lips parted. She felt perfect against his skin. That wasn't surprising, though, because he was infatuated with her. It was hard to tell whether he was just eager to have someone interested in him or not. It made it difficult to determine if what they had was special because he'd never experienced anything like it.

Soon, curious fingertips raised from beneath their shared blanket to cup her flickering expression. Saburōta slid both sets of fingers against either of her ears and gently traced the tattoos framing her resting eyes. Then he raised the whisper-soft caress, slipping the pads of his thumbs over her fluttering lashes.

There was a hesitancy in her breath that noted he might have startled her from sleep, which didn't seem to bother him. He continued to trace her soft eyelids, craning to dust their noses as he indulged his obsession. Then, when he felt the trembling skin beneath his touch sputter to life, he raised his consideration, combing her dark brows with a similar motion as glassy sapphires peeked from behind their cover.

Quivering blinks drew his nearness into focus beneath his gentle touch, and for a moment, Neirah just stared into his eyes and battled to separate dreams from reality. "Why are you so hot?" She could see the triumphant twist in his devious expression when she stated her words so casually, so she immediately hardened her drowsy appearance with impatience. "I meant temperature-wise," she derided. "Don't act so smug."

Saburōta didn't bother answering her as he continued to memorize the contours of her face. "Who were you dreaming about just now?" He stated the words playfully to hide his possession, but even half-conscious, Neirah was swift enough to catch on to his trivialities.

"Do you have any idea how badly I want to test you right now?" she sassed. Her already sultry tone was roughened with sleep and droning as sarcastically as she could make it. "For somebody as mousy as you are, you sure do like to cause trouble."

"Not mousy," he defended through his pouty frown. "You saw what I did last time Chitose took you out without my permission."

"Your permission?" She purred flirtatiously, weaving her arms around his torso as she closed her eyes and snuggled into his fingertips. She rather enjoyed indulging his fantasies, knowing that it was no more than prideful banter. "I somewhat enjoy your little delusions," she whispered airily against his sternum. "But Kusanagi-san is right. You get jealous over the silliest things."

"I don't want him touching you," Saburōta admitted tenderly. His tone was far too nervous to sound unsettling. "Not after what he did in Minato."

"I see you don't share your toys well."

Her casual remark caused Saburōta's touch to falter, his expression to harden with disapproval. "You're not my toy…"

Neirah nuzzled beneath his palm and tilted her head back, gently raking her upper teeth over his chin. "What am I then? Certainly not your pet," she cooed. "I suppose, though, technically I'm your roommate. Perhaps that's classification enough." Her soft titter was teasing as she tipped his jaw back with the encouragement of her prodding nose. "At least I'm not far away now for you to come and find me when you figure it out."

Saburōta's once-fixed gaze fell sedated after she'd hidden beneath his chin, dotting wet kisses along his extended throat. "That feels good," he whispered contentedly. A pleasured groan sounded beneath her tongue as she tangled them even more wildly beneath their blanket, anything to be closer.

It was that carnal lust that made clarifying their relationship status difficult. The last thing Saburōta wanted to do was dive in headfirst and say words that he was too indulgent to mean. He didn't want to hurt her by being too clumsy to tell the difference, and she hadn't come to him with a confession either. He supposed that weighed heavily in his heart as well. If a smart girl like Neirah couldn't figure it out, it made him wonder if neither of them wanted to admit a cold truth. At least while they lingered on indecision, everything felt guiltless and undeniably sweet.

Saburōta seemed startled to attention when Neirah snaked her fingers over his shoulders, letting her sharp nails bite into the tender flesh to stir his arousal. That was a satisfying sound, and she liked it when he wasn't afraid to arch into the pain to let her know that he liked it no matter how shamelessly he whined. A sleepy smile curled her lips to the feeling of him pulling on her hair, and she playfully nibbled his chest in approval. "Mmm, I figured since you refuse to let me sleep in peace, I might as well get my fill of you."

Triumph welled within Saburōta's chest beneath her love bites when he came to appreciate that he'd managed to snag himself an adorable little nymphomaniac. Every day it was a struggle not to rub it in Yō's face. Look at what I have, and you don't. Have fun with all your disappointing one-night stands, asshole-

A sharp hiss rushed past his teeth as she caught his skin between sharp canines, puncturing it to reclaim his attention. He found it delightful that she was almost as needy for affection as he was. "Is this my punishment for waking you?" Saburōta groaned indulgently.

"Sufferrr~" she whispered in a dull jeer.

Hah… A thin, mild grin brightened Saburōta's expression for a moment. "At least I'm not gonna die a virgin," he stated unexpectedly proudly. "How depressing would that've been? Like, here; you can be twenty-something forever, but nobody's gonna want you. That woulda been painful."

Neirah groaned and shoved his mass away from her with a harsh jolt as she rolled her eyes. "You are the king of petty," she scorned upon fleeing his unbearable warmth. It took a great deal of effort on her part not to mock him for not remembering his age.

Despite her rejecting shove leaving him flat on his back and staring at the ceiling, he didn't let his impish smile fade. "Wow, not only am I naked in bed with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, but she calls me a king too. How could anyone be depressed about that?"

When she heard him mumble his quip from behind her, she quickly buried her face in her pillow to stifle her hysterics. Then, she turned her bright and disbelieving expression towards where he continued to stare listlessly into oblivion with an awkwardly satisfied expression locked on his relaxed features. "You are unbelievable," she whispered wryly.

He shifted his dusky eyes into his peripherals to connect them with hers from beneath dark chocolate bangs. "Unbelievably sexy?"

With a hearty sigh of surrender, Neirah rested her elbow against his chest, leaning her head into its support while her fingers combed through his tousled mop. "You should see your hair right now," she teased. Surely if he had, he wouldn't be acting so conceitedly. "Your bedhead is almost as dreadful as your hat-head." Although disinclined to support his complex, she couldn't help but melt to the sight of his charming smile, beaming back hopeful affection towards her light petting. Soon, she was smiling too, her cheeks flushing with heat. "But, I suppose, it does have a certain boyish charm." She'd become rather fond of his sporadic bouts of confidence since they'd started to get along. She loved the nervous flush of colour that highlighted his fair complexion moments before he was about to say something that he knew was vain.

"Kiss me." His command was tender but anxious as he reached for her hair, tugging on the wild waves that dangled over her shoulder and concealed her voluptuous bosom from his hungry observation.

She diverted her disenchanted gaze to one side, not fully rolling it before returning her disbelieving smirk to his anticipation. Surrendering to his ungainly whims, she shuffled over his body and shadowed his resting frame. "But, of course, majesty." To what sounded like his attempted purr, she could feel him writhe in anticipation beneath her, leaden with arousal as she neared. But before he was satisfied with her tender kiss, she met his expectations with a sharp nip against his lower lip that was stern enough to make him yelp.

"Not nice!" he howled sullenly.

"I don't know how long you've been twenty-something, but I feel like you haven't matured since you were seven." A much more enticing purr rumbled erotically in the back of her throat as she wove her tongue behind his lips and passionately devoured his anticipated kiss. The moment she felt him clutch the back of her head and heard him moan his satisfaction, she slipped away and playfully licked her lips. "You have no idea how to make a woman obey you."

"Eh, but this is okay, too," he whispered breathlessly. "If I died tomorrow, I'd still be pretty happy."

Neirah didn't appreciate how he made light of their circumstance, so with her decision made, she slowly slipped one of her thighs over his hips beneath their shared sheets. What bothered her most was that he could give up on a reality where every day could be as happy as the last, even if it were only a single lifetime's worth. As Izumo and Tatara had stated, nobody was entirely sure what to expect. For all he knew, she could be begging for his touch for eternity.

Once his eager fingers were sinking into her soft, fleshy thighs, she leaned against his torso and placed a tender kiss against his damp brow beneath messy bangs. That seemed to please him, which in turn made her heart flutter. Even if he acted haughtily, she could feel his appreciation every time she showed him affection, and throughout their time together, he'd fought every obstacle to hold onto those moments no matter how few and far between. Sometimes, his resilience inspired her.

"You are warm, though," Neirah assured him carefully. "Warmer than usual, and probably warmer than you should be. We should mention this to Kusanagi-san tomorrow."

"But you like it when I'm warm," he desperately interjected. He hooked one of his fingers and haphazardly pointed towards his collar. "You do that thing where you curl up against my neck and bite that special spot." And that turned him on, although he was hard-pressed to admit it so boldly. Just thinking about begging for her aggression made his face flood with crimson around his mild grin. "Remember?"

He was so clueless that it made Neirah groan with the need to indulge his every abstract desire. Unfortunately, she was right in between sleep and alertness, leaving half of her heart lusting and the other sappy. "I like it when you're here with me," she assured him tenderly. "Just like this." Tripping over your clumsy tongue and begging for feelings you don't understand. She slipped another passionate kiss over his wanting lips before trailing the affection over his jaw. "I would like to keep it that way for as long as I can."

He was a mess for her touch, melting so seamlessly beneath her passion every time she shared it. He could admit that, in a perfect world, it would last forever. "H-hey… Tsukiyo?"

Mn?

Suddenly, the confidence that was flirting with her moments before seemed to drain with Saburōta's doubt as he gently encouraged her continuation. "Do you… really mean that?"

Neirah paused, gently nibbling on his earlobe as she considered his inquiry. "That depends," she whispered against the sensitivity. "Did you mean what you said when you called me beautiful?" Sometimes she found it hard to determine whether it was safe to take him seriously or not.

Saburōta's need got the better of him for a moment as he wrapped his arms around her, just delighting in smothering her with intimacy. "A-ah… maybe." He laid his face against her shoulder, hoping that she couldn't see how difficult it was for him to admit something so sincere.

A knowing smile turned Neirah's lips up to one side before she dipped the tip of her tongue into the channels of his ear. "Maybe?"

H-hah… Saburōta's toes curled until one of his knees was buckling free beneath her comforting heat to help relieve his tension. "Y-yeah, I… think so…"

"So noisy," she breathed against her repeated offence. "Maybe someday I'll teach you how to be on top."

E-eh…? It was evident that he was anxious again the moment he ignored the crushing weight of her chest oppressed against his so he could watch the tips of his forefingers meet. "But you said it was okay last time…"

"Oh? Where did all your confidence go?" she hummed sadistically. "Should we talk about the man in my dreams?"

"O-oi! Stop that!"

"He was quite handsome, you know~ And he sure knew how to get a girl's attention."

"I swear if you say it was Chitose-!"

Neirah dropped her lips against his, swallowing his argument with a heated kiss that stirred them each into chilling with anticipation. She loved the desperation in his grip as he tugged on her hair, trying everything to bring her impossibly closer. Maybe their situation was a little complicated and more than a little confusing, but it was fun while it lasted. "Baka," she whispered lovingly upon their parting. "I'm talking about you."

He seemed hopeful again. "M-me? Really?"

"Yes," she admitted quietly. "Would you like me to show you what we were doing in said dreamscape?"

"H-heh… yeah… That'd be good."

"Very good."